“That doesn’t look very safe,” said Richard halting, “but come on, it isn’t likely to hit the same spot twice.”
“Hadn’t you better leave your gun?” she suggested, for all this while that weapon had been slung to his back and she knew that lightning has an affinity for iron.
“Certainly not,” he answered, “it is a new one which my father gave me, and I won’t be parted from it.”
Then they went on and reached the little cave just as the rain broke over them in earnest. As it chanced the place was dry, being so situated that all water ran away from it. They crouched in it shivering, trying to cover themselves with dead sticks and brushwood that had lodged here in the wet season when the whole island was under water.
“It would be nice enough if only we had a fire,” said Rachel, her teeth chattering as she spoke.
The lad Richard thought a while. Then he opened a leather case that hung on his rifle sling and took from it a powder flask and flint and steel and some tinder. Pouring a little powder on the damp tinder, he struck the flint until at length a spark caught and fired the powder. The tinder caught also, though reluctantly, and while Rachel blew on it, he felt round for dead leaves and little sticks, some of which were coaxed into flame.
After this things were easy since fuel lay about in abundance, so that soon they had a splendid fire burning in the mouth of the cave whence the smoke escaped. Now they were able to warm and dry themselves, and as the heat entered into their chilled bodies, their spirits rose. Indeed the contrast between this snug hiding place and blazing fire of drift wood and the roaring tempest without, conduced to cheerfulness in young people who had just narrowly escaped from drowning.
“I am so hungry,” said Rachel, presently.
Again Richard began to search, and this time produced from the pocket of his coat a long and thick strip of sun-dried meat.
“Can you eat biltong?” he asked.